


i dreamt we spoke (i dreamt we spoke again)

by thedreamsteam



Series: the dream team fics [8]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, i was like 'oh what if dream changes sides' and then this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedreamsteam/pseuds/thedreamsteam
Summary: He still feels Sapnap’s anger as he sits in the bundle of ropes, the material tight against his skin. It nearly feels like the grip that Sap had had on his neck, the grip in his anger that had thrown him down to the ground. The rope wasn’t tight enough to feel like that.The stares on him weren’t even close to Sap’s anger, either. He looks at the others, all sitting in the room, and he’s glad he grabbed his mask before Sap could hurt him any further.or, Dream's left his side and gone for L'manberg
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot
Series: the dream team fics [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913893
Comments: 13
Kudos: 460





	i dreamt we spoke (i dreamt we spoke again)

**Author's Note:**

> this note if for fatima so she knows what the fuck si going bc she doesnt know ANYTHING but dream is blonde n has green eyes there u go
> 
> also side note im sorry george n sap are literally so evil i had to have SOMETHING
> 
> uhhh could this change to wilbur/dream in a sequel?? maybe
> 
> title from i dreamt we spoke again by death cab for cutie

He still feels Sapnap’s anger as he sits in the bundle of ropes, the material tight against his skin. It nearly feels like the grip that Sap had had on his neck, the grip in his anger that had thrown him down to the ground. The rope wasn’t tight enough to feel like that.

The stares on him weren’t even close to Sap’s anger, either. He looks at the others, all sitting in the room, and he’s glad he grabbed his mask before Sap could hurt him any further.

“How do we know he’s telling the truth?” Fundy asks, arms crossed, and Dream’s mouth turns into a frown, glancing down at his wrists. They can’t see his face, the mask hiding his expressions, but he’s sure they can see the sad slope of his back as he hunches up.

There’s burn marks along his wrists. He didn’t really notice until now, the adrenaline hiding the pain, but it hits now, making him hiss involuntarily. They’re broken too, he thinks, trying to move one and nearly gasping. They’re bad, and he’s really wondering how he didn’t notice them before when Wilbur’s suddenly in front of him.

The man starts to speak, to ask a question, but he sees the moment the man looks at the burn marks, which are in the shape of hand prints, and sees the angle his wrists are at, because his face drops. He kneels down to look, and a few minutes later, everyone is gone from the room except for himself, Wilbur, Tubbo, and Tommy.

Tommy cuts the ropes away, but Dream doesn’t move, his entire body exhausted from his injuries, not to mention all the running he did. He doesn’t think he could move, even if he wanted to. Doesn’t think he should move, anyways. Not with the fact that he’s just come in and told everyone that he’s not a part of the team they’re fighting anymore. He’d be suspicious as well.

“Here,” Wilbur says, and Dream blinks, finally realizing the taller man kneeling in front of him. He’s holding one of his hands out, and Dream nods, letting Wilbur pull him up, nearly falling over by the time he’s finally up. Wilbur’s hands shoot out to steady him, and he finds himself leaning on him quite a bit. “Woah, Dream. Please don’t injure yourself more.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles, walking over with Wilbur to one of the few sinks they’ve managed to make. He follows what Wilbur does, doing as the man says, but he can’t help but gasp in pain when his wrists are put underneath the cool water.

“Sorry.” Wilbur apologizes, and Dream nods, waiting for the pain from the burns to go down. It does, eventually, and while he waits for it to, he realizes the young boys have gone strangely quiet. When he looks, though, they’re gone. He doesn’t question it.

When the pain from the burns are finally gone and he mumbles this to Wilbur, he’s taken back over to where he was, sitting on the wooden floor. This time, though, Wilbur’s sitting across from him, his hands gentle as he applies the lotion to his skin and wraps the bandages right over them, grabbing a splint from the cabinet right beside them and securing it around his wrists. His hands are soft, so unlike the side of him that Dream has seen when in the field, and it’s so different that he can’t help to wonder which side he’s missed the most.

A pill is dropped into his hand, alongside a cup of water in his other, and he takes it quickly, not even bothering to ask what it was. If he dies, he dies, and he can’t tell whether he wants that or not.

Wilbur takes him back outside, but instead of the rope leading him where he needs to go, Wilbur holds onto the sleeve of his shirt, and he can’t tell if Wilbur just doesn’t know how strong he is or if Wilbur just knows he’s too tired and weak to even attempt it tonight. But it’s probably the second option, he thinks.

He’s lead into a small room, and through his haze of sleepiness, pain, and a mix of other things he doesn’t even know, he hears that this is a room that is right off of Wilbur’s own room, and this is where he’ll be staying for the time being. 

“If you need anything, knock on the wall, and I’ll come.” Wilbur tells him, and Dream doesn’t know how this man was his enemy less than 24 hours ago.

-

Wilbur watches as Dream walks over to the bed that’s against the wall, and he waits until the taller man has started trying to sleep before leaving, shutting and locking the door quietly behind him. The locking is a dick move, probably, but he’s still not sure whether to trust this man. This man is different from the one he knew before, he thinks.

He walks to his room, barely keeping in a sigh once he realizes Tommy and Tubbo were waiting for him, the former sitting on top of his desk, swinging his legs.

“How is he?” Tubbo asks, voice curious, and Wilbur gives him a small smile in reassurance.

“He’ll be fine, eventually. There’s burn marks on his wrists, and they’re broken as well, so I can’t imagine the pain he’s going through. I did what I could though.” He sits down at his desk, waiting for the younger boy to hop off. He does, but only after Wilbur’s had to shove him off with a smile on his face.

“Hey!” Tommy protests, but he’s hiding something, Wilbur can tell, something that’s eating him away.

“What do you want to say?” He asks after a moment, seeing the glance Tommy gives Tubbo, and he sees the smallest of nods.

“Ok, don’t get mad at me.” He mumbles near the end, hands raising as he starts to mess with his fingers, a nervous habit. “I talked to some of the other sides people earlier, after you sent everyone out of the room while you tried to help Dream.”

Wilbur nods, trying to show he’s still listening. He isn’t mad, at all, just worried.

“And they told me about how they had gone somewhere and Sapnap and George had just been so angry. They weren’t hiding the fact that Dream had ‘betrayed’ them and left, but they told me that those two were telling people how they got too angry when he admitted it that they hurt him. And they said that Sap and George didn’t even seem sorry. They said that the two seemed to even be laughing when Sap told about how he burned Dream’s wrists when he gripped them tight, and when George told them about how he acted like he would heal Dream, but really did it just so he could break his wrists.

“They told me about the other things in the place, the things that Dream had told us was the reason he left, and they mentioned that Dream had been trying to stop all of this stuff, but the others only thought of it as money and let it soar.”

The silence in the room is loud, louder than anything else, and Wilbur can’t help but wonder what the blonde haired man has gone through.

“Can I add something?” Tubbo asks softly, trying not to break the silence too harshly.

“Yeah, of course Tubbo.”

“I don’t know how much this adds to Tommy’s thing, but every time we had gone to the stream to get water, Dream had always been there, and the first few times he had been bruised and bloody when we met him, but he was always nice. And it took us until the fifth time to realize we hadn’t had any recent fights for any of the times we saw him, but he was always nice to us. He just always seemed sad.”

The silence envelops the room again, until Wilbur finally sends the younger boys to sleep, telling them they need their sleep. They groan, but he gets them to go, and he can tell they need it. He doesn’t sleep for a while, though. The thoughts keep plaguing his mind, and he sits at his desk, changed out of his uniform and into his hoodie and sweatpants.

The picture on his desk catches his eye, and he smiles softly as he picks it up, looking at the memory trapped in the frame. It’s from a few years ago, when he was still young and innocent, eyes free from the pain. He’s standing beside his best friend, arms wrapped around the younger boy as they laugh, the water splashing in the air as the picture’s taken, the people in the background seemingly random blurs. The blonde boy beside him is smiling so wide it must hurt, his green eyes sparkling in the sunshine, the both of them slightly tan from the rays of the sun. They look so happy, holding on to each other, and Wilbur wonders what changed. He wonders how they went from that, to one leading a revolution and the other man joining his side, injured from some so-called “friends”.

What changed? Was it the blood on his hands the first time he killed? Was it the blood that splattered on Dream’s face the first time he stabbed, the moment of hopelessness? 

He doesn’t know anymore.

When he sleeps, it’s fitfully, dreaming of a past where nobody was there except him and the blonde boy, laughing and smiling as they ran through the flowers, holding hands as the bees buzzed and as the sun shone bright, gently. When he wakes up, it’s to the sound of a knock, and he remembers what he had told Dream, suddenly. He pulls off the covers and pads down to the room Dream’s in, unlocking the door and shutting it behind him as he enters.

And there’s 4 things he notices. He notices the blood staining the bedsheets, as well as the blood covering the man’s hands. He notices the mask still on his face, and the clothes still on as well, and there’s a pang in his chest when he realizes he never even gave Dream a new pair of clothes, forcing the man to stay in the clothes from the others all night. Not to mention, he can see the clothes are scratchy, and shit, now he feels bad. But the blood is making him panic, and he’s never been happier for a knock to come on the door, and when he opens it, it’s Tommy, and the boy can’t even get any words out before Wilbur is asking him to go get the kit and a new pair of clothes. Tubbo’s beside the boy, and they both run, each getting one of the things.

He closes the door again, and softly walks over to Dream, pulling the dirtied covers away, prying the man’s hands from them. He holds one of them, giving him at least some bit of comfort, as he gently gets the younger man to step away from the bed and settle on the floor instead. He tries to not look at the wound in Dream’s side, not until he has to, but he sees it soon enough, the blood wet on his side. The mask is still on Dream’s face, blood on the bottom part, and he nearly takes it off before realizing he doesn’t know if Dream is even okay with that.

Tommy returns at that moment, Tubbo right behind him, and they close and lock the door behind them as they enter. They clearly know what they’re needed to do, and Wilbur feels the love swell for them, and he would tell them this, but Dream’s the one bleeding right now. He thanks them for the stuff, and turns back to Dream, trying to figure out what to even say.

“Dream, do you mind if I take off your mask?” He asks softly, hands reaching up, just stopping short. He waits for the man to move, to say anything, and it isn’t long before he hears the man quietly say he can take it off. He does so, the blood slipping onto his fingers, but his breath catches when he stares at Dream’s face again.

 _Focus_. He thinks, shaking his head slightly as he helps Dream take his jacket off of his body. He can’t help but look up at the man’s blonde hair, and he catches his green eyes more than once. He ignores it, though, and helps Dream until he’s shirtless in the cool room, and he can see the wound better. It’s not as bad as he thought it was, but it’s just added onto a growing pile of everything that seems to be going horribly for Dream. He apologizes to him as he cleans and bandages the wound, helping him out of the dirty clothes and into the clean ones before the man can pass out on his shoulder.

“Oh, god, ok, you’re gonna need to sleep in my room.” He mutters quietly to himself, turning and slightly jumping when he realizes Tommy and Tubbo were still in the room. “Shit, you guys.”

“Sorry.” Tubbo apologizes, moving forward to help him hold Dream up. “We didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay.” He tells them, Tommy running to open the door, and they all get Dream to Wilbur’s room eventually, gently dropping them on his bed.

“What are we going to do?” Tubbo asks as they sit on the floor some minutes later, the sound of Dream’s light snored breaking the silence.

“I don’t know.” Wilbur says truthfully, his heart sinking.

For the first time since this has all started, he doesn’t know what’s the right choice, and he doesn’t know if that scares him or not.

**Author's Note:**

> HI IM STILL @THEDREAMSTEAM ON TUMBLR


End file.
